Spirits and Ghouls
by Sanoon
Summary: Taking place after Dead Man Talking, a certain being from Jack's past just doesn't seem to want to die...
1. Prologue

Gentleman, behold! The beginning of the next part in the Dead Man Talking line. This is what I've wanted to write for some time now. Well…not this chapter, per-say, but the next few chapters.

Disclaimer – I don't own Invader Zim.

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Spirits and Ghouls  
By Sanoon

Prologue

MacBeth sat down on his couch, and opened up his newspaper. The TV was blaring in the background, talking about the latest death in the community. The newspaper also had an article about it:

**MAN DIES BY SPONTANEOUS HUMAN COMBUSTION!**

"Hmm," the man grunted. "What a load of crap." MacBeth rubbed his hand across his forehead, clearing his face of unwanted sweat. "Why is it so hot in here?" he asked himself.

Now MacBeth is a large man, even greatly obese to many people, but he didn't sweat very often, especially in his own home. The large man folded his newspaper up, stood up, and calmly walked over to his thermostat. 74 degrees.

"That can't be right," MacBeth mumbled to himself. "Stupid thing must be broken."

His breathing increased.

"Terribly warm in here." He sat back down. His skin felt like it was sizzling. His organs seemed like they were cooking. Smoke started to rise from his skin. "Too…warm in here…" In an instant, his skin went up in flames. He screamed for the few seconds he was conscious, while a dark voice was laughing in the background. The fire spread, quickly consuming the house in the ravenous fire.

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Hey…I said it was a prologue, and you know how short I make those.

You see some familiar faces next chapter.

Don't know what to expect? Don't know what to think? Keep reading and find out.


	2. Deadly Findings

Ahh, gentleman, I present to you another Sanoon original. A story where love isn't an issue. A story that'll keep you entertained. A story that'll have you rooting for the good guys…and the bad guy if you're on that side, which I might actually favor as well.

Oh…and if you haven't read Dead Man Talking or Anakras, this might get a little strange.

Disclaimer – I don't own Invader Zim. If I did, there would have been a lot more psychos and guns in it. However, I do own Jack and Anakras. Which, strangely enough, one is a psycho and one did use a gun at one point.

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Spirits and Ghouls  
By Sanoon

Chapter 1: Deadly Findings

"Any news about the spontaneous combustion incidents?" Dib asked, to what everyone else would guess, himself. But really, he wasn't alone.

The boy's nightly trips to the park were now common after his first encounter a month ago. August was well in bound. The leaves were already starting to fade.

"Today's police are horrible," Jack said, staring off into the shadowy distance. The sun was down, and the lamps only illuminated the park's paths, nothing else. He chuckled. "Do I sound like an old guy or what?"

Dib laughed as well. "You have been around for a while," the boy commented.

"I suppose you're right." Jack took out a cigarette from the pack in his pocket. "Anyways, I haven't found much from the incidents. The police are blocking off the newer places too well for me to investigate properly."

"You're a ghost. What's stopping you?" Dib asked, slightly confused.

"Well, it's not like I can just grab evidence right out of the police's hands." Jack sighed. "The police found it first. They get to keep it." He lit his cigarette and took a long puff, expelling the smoke into the night air. "I'm going to try to go to one of the older fires and see what I can find. The police don't really pay enough attention to those."

"Mostly due to the lack of manpower," Dib added. "They're just too concerned with the newer fires to have anyone at the older ones."

Another puff. "I'm going to go to Mr. Franklin's house tomorrow and see what I can find."

"Want me to join?" Dib asked, smiling.

"Not this time, kid," Jack answered. The boy's smile disappeared. "It's too dangerous for you. The rubble could be too unstable. I'd hate for you to end up like me, especially at your age."

"I guess so." The boy jumped off the bench. "Good luck Jack. I need to get home."

"Right," Jack replied, nodding his head. "Good night, kid." The two went their separate ways, one fading out of sight, while the other walked out of sight.

­­­-----

The old house used to be a two story, blue Victorian, but was now a tarnished, black ruin. The flames that consumed the house a week ago were extinguished by the fire department before the house had crumbled to the ground. The second floor was barely intact, but existent nonetheless. Many holes had been burnt through the walls, which let the morning sun fill what little parts it could with sunlight. The house was now a disgusting stain on the bright community. A week may have passed since the incident, but the only thing the police did was put up a yellow 'Do Not Cross' line around the premises.

The yellow line shook faintly, even though there was no wind in the air today. A figure, unseen by all, walked through the burnt, dilapidated door. He didn't bother to open it, but the door didn't move as if something did hit it.

The man that stood in the house glanced around the rubble, while a small stream of smoke rose from his cigarette. The remains of furniture littered the floor. Old couches that people once used, remains of chairs, a TV crushed by a brittle desk that fell from the room above, picture frames which once held pictures, a smashed lamp that once lit the room, and a coffee table, shattered in the middle by the weight of the objects on it when the fire weakened it.

A quick noise brought Jack's attention to the hole in the ceiling. It sounded like a kid was running around upstairs. The ghost walked out of the living room, and into the hallway. The staircase, or what was left of it, was at the very end. Jack continued down the hallway. Dust and ash fell from the ceiling, as what seemed to be faint, deranged laughter echoed from a hole leading to a room on the floor above. Jack increased his speed to a quick walk.

He started to ascend the destroyed circular oak staircase, but stopped halfway up when the balcony for the second floor snapped off and fell. Jack quickly glanced over to see what it was, but was rather puzzled when he saw something small dash into a room. It resembled a furless dog almost. He walked up the rest of the stairs, and walked over to the room he saw the creature run off into.

The floor of the room he was starring at had collapsed into the room below it. There was hardly any space for anything to move around on. Jack glanced down at the rubble-encased floor below. No sign of any animal falling through.

He stepped back into the hallway when he heard the floorboards creak in the next room. He quickly ran over and peered into the room. Nothing but the remains of a bathroom. Jack sighed and shook his head. There was no dog. His mind must be playing tricks on him…but for a ghost…was that a good or a bad thing?

Jack continued down the hallway, floating over a hole in the process. He heard the creaking sound again, this time coming from right behind him. Jack quickly turned around and saw that creature running into the bathroom. He didn't get a full sight of it, but it looked familiar. Deadly familiar.

Jack ran to the bathroom, but didn't see anything. The creaking sound came again, but this time, it was moving above him, in the attic. He looked at the ceiling in the bathroom. There was a hole leading to the attic.

No doubt about it, something was in this house. Never before in Jack's time after death did he wish he had his trusty pistol back. Another creak returned his attention to the hallway. Jack's eyes widened when he saw what was lurking his way.

A small, green creature, maybe four feet long, was crawling across the ceiling. It was using its three claw-like fingers to grasp onto the ceiling, as well as its two-toed, clawed feet. The creature's dull yellow eyes stared him down, while it showed off a row of vicious, hungry, razor-sharp teeth. It was wearing a tattered white shirt with black stripes, and tight, pure black pants. It's yellow dotted backpack kept the back of his shirt from dangling. The creature dropped from the ceiling, spinning in the air to land on all fours, facing Jack.

"You!" Jack shouted at the creature, his cigarette falling out of his mouth, and fading out of existence.

"That's Anakras to you," the creature replied, grinning at the ghost, "and don't you forget it."

"I'm dead because of you!" Jack shouted at the creature as he clenched his fists.

"And I'm dead because of you," Anakras replied, his eyes narrowing at his enemy.

Jack grinned and held in a laugh, causing the Irken to frown in a mixture of confusion and anger. "You don't know how happy I am to hear that," he said. "Do you know how long I've been searching for you?"

"Fifty of your Earth years," the alien replied. "Do you realize how horrible this planet is?"

"This is a great place if you actually live here. But you came here to kill people. It's good you died. No one else had to suffer by your hands since you died."

The alien laughed. Not just a short laugh, but real laughter; laughter that was caused by something really, really funny. Jack only stared at the alien, baffled as to what it found so funny. "Do you think my death would stop me? Who do you think started all these fires?"

"So you started them!"

Anakras nodded. Jack charged foreword, landing a punch on the surprised alien's face. The Irken fell back, but quickly recovered. He jumped onto the ceiling again and quickly crawled to a spot where Jack couldn't touch him.

"Where do you think you're going!?" Jack shouted at the other ghost.

"Sorry I can't entertain you human, but I have to go collect my thoughts about our encounter." The Irken quickly exited the house, running across the ceiling and jumping out a broken window. Jack didn't follow. He knew he couldn't catch the alien, but he also knew he'd see him again. They had a score to settle.

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Now that's some good OC action right there. 

Say, whose your fav? Jack or Anakras? Good or Evil? Human or Irken?

Thanks for reading, and review please.


	3. Making House Calls

Disclaimer – I don't own Invader Zim, but I do own Jack and Anakras.

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Spirits and Ghouls  
By Sanoon

Chapter 2: Making House Calls

The door creaked open. Dib stuck his head through, relieved to find that Gaz had gone to bed. The boy quietly walked into his house and headed to his room. He didn't make a sound as he ascended the stairs, opened his door, entered, and closed his door again. It was a routine he had repeated for a month now.

The boy had waited at the park like he normally did, but for some reason, Jack never showed.

Dib changed into his PJs and crawled into bed. If he stayed up any later, he might oversleep and be late for skool. It was already 12:13. Dib closed his eyes, and quickly blacked out.

-----

_Click, click, click. Schrechh. Click, click, click._ Dib opened his tired eyes. _Schrechh_. He glanced at his alarm clock. 12:33. _Click, click, click._ What was making that noise? The boy yawned and rubbed his eyes. _Schrechh_. He put his glasses on and looked around. _Click, click, click._ He didn't see anything. _Schrechh._

The boy gasped. When he heard the sound, the dark room seemed to get a dim light that came from nowhere. However, the light showed an environment only seen in nightmares and horror movies. For a mere split second, everything in Dib's room, the walls, the bed, his computer, became tarnished, rotten, and old. Stains streaked from nowhere, and covered everything.

Then, as if it never happened, the room went dark again. Everything returned to its old self. "What's going on?" Dib asked fearfully. _Click, click, click._ The sounds were getting closer. It was coming from the hall, but now it seemed to be inside the room.

_Schrechh_. The room turned back to that creepy state, but Dib saw something he had missed before. He saw…something…crawling on his ceiling. Crawling…towards him.

The room returned to it's darkened state. _Click, click, click._ The boy started shaking, and he backed up in his bed, pressing himself against the wall. _Schrechh._ The room again turned into a demonic looking place. All the tarnish, all the horror, all the strange evil didn't last half a second this time. The walls and items in the room remained tarnished, rotten and old. Dib got a closer look at the creature that was making that noise, much to his horror to also find that it was closer. The creature was…Irken!

The creature was crawling on the ceiling, glaring evilly with a wicked smile at the boy the entire time. The Irken released its grip from the ceiling, and fell onto Dib's bed. The Irken started to laugh, as its grin grew bigger and reached a gloveless hand out towards the boy.

Dib screamed and attempted to kick at the alien, but his foot only seemed to pass right through it. The Irken stopped and glanced at his chest, frowning in confusion. Dib, whose heart seemed to be beating faster than an Olympic swimmer, rolled off of his bed, avoiding the alien as he continued his attempts to grab the boy.

"Come here, human," the Irken said, a cruel smile on his face.

"G-get out of my room!" Dib shouted at the creature as he backed up into his worn desk, which creaked at the slightest touch. The alien crawled off the bed and drew closer to the terrified boy. Dib quickly jumped up, thankful that his legs weren't failing him in this time of need. He ran to the door and opened it as the alien leapt from the floor to the wall next to the boy. The Irken's fingers reached out, but Dib wasted no time in making an escape, slamming the door behind him.

He slammed his back against the opposite wall, and stared at his door. "What the…who was that?" he asked himself. Suddenly, the door seemed to develop a liquid-like consistency, as the Irken walked through the door, creating ripples on the wooded frame.

Dib screamed and bolted for the stairs. He had to get away from this thing. As he was running down the steps with complete disregard for safety, he found that the steps were worn and chipped. Dib stumbled down the steps, loosing his glasses along the way.

The boy didn't waste any time recovering. He quickly started searching for his glasses. However, he quickly became disgusted when his hands ran across the filthy, damp carpet. He stuck his tongue out in disgust as his hand was covered in…water? Dib smelled the liquid. Water. The carpet was wet. It wasn't raining outside, so why was it wet?

A hand grabbed the boy's leg, causing Dib to scream as he realized the alien was right behind him. As the boy flailed his arms, they ran over his glasses, which he quickly grabbed as he used his other leg to kick the Irken behind him. Dib heard a quiet and aggravated growl as the hand let go.

Dib immediately jumped up and ran to the front door putting on his glasses in the process. To his horror, the front door was chained up as it someone was trying to stop a bulldozer from entering. You couldn't even see the wood, just chains upon chains.

"You're not getting out," came the Irken's voice. Dib jumped around, and saw him sitting on top of the couch, like a dog would be sitting.

"Who are you!?" Dib shouted at the intruder. "What are you doing in my house!?"

"Look around, Dib," the yellow-eyed alien answered. "Does this look like your house?"

Dib glanced around. In his fear of the Irken in front of him, he had failed to notice everything before. Sure, the house design was the exact same as his old one, but it just wasn't his house. Everything had a blood red hue, and was soaked. The windows were barricaded with wood and metal bars, which were covered in…blood! Dib dared a glance up, to find that the ceiling was slowly eating away at itself, revealing the rooms above.

"W-where are we?" Dib asked, trying to hide the fear in his voice as he continued to stare at all of the wretched things in the room.

"We're in my world," the alien replied. "Why? Don't like it?"

"Who are you?" Dib asked the Irken.

"What do you care?" the alien replied as he crawled down from the top of the couch to the cushion. "Once you die, it won't matter who I am…or was."

"Was?" Dib questioned, raising an eyebrow at the Irken.

"That's right. Was." He attempted to craw to the floor, but when his bare hand touched the wet carpet, he instantly retracted it. Instead, he just jumped onto the worn end table at the end of the couch. "I was trying my best to live the only way I knew how until your friend stopped me."

"Who are you talking about?" Dib asked, finding this ever confusing.

The alien narrowed his eyes at the boy, and his grin turned to that of an evil, scary looking one. "You know who! That stupid human ghost you hang out with!"

"Jack!?"

"Yes, Jack! He's the reason I'm dead."

"But didn't you killed him."

"So what if I did. He's not the first, and he wasn't the last."

"The fires! You're behind them, aren't you!?"

"You caught me. But I can't let you tell anyone. Plus, all the help you give Jack, it's bad for me. So I need to get rid of you now."

Dib took a step back as his eyes widened. He couldn't fight off a ghost, especially on the ghost's turf. The Irken got ready to pounce on the boy, but the human dived out of the way, landed in the soaked carpet, and ran into the kitchen screaming.

The tiles in the room were broken, and a strange fungus was growing on the walls, overtaking the room like an invading force. When Dib turned around to see if the alien showed up yet, he was surprised to see that the Irken was already staring him in the face.

The Irken punched Dib in the gut, sending the boy stumbling back. A quick kick sent the boy flying to his butt. It took no time at all for the alien to crouch in front of the boy. He held out one of his fingers, and smiled creepily as he laid his finger on the boy's chest, right over the heart. Then, he simply just pressed his finger into the Dib. Not puncturing the skin, but just passing through it as if it wasn't there.

But that's not to say it didn't hurt. Dib clenched his teeth until he started screaming in pain. It felt like the alien was stroking his heart. The alien's finger went deeper, this time entering the heart, which was starting to beat slower and slower. Dib's energy was starting to leave him.

"Leave him alone, Anakras! You're fight is with me!" Dib's hope rose significantly just then, as he glanced over to the kitchen doorway to see Jack walking in.

"Jack," both Dib mumbled weakly.

Anakras quickly pulled his finger out of the boy and jumped up, staring at the human ghost. "Damn it, Jack. Always spoiling my fun."

Jack tossed his cigarette onto the floor and stomped it out as he glared at Anakras. "Leave the kid out of it. Your fight is with me."

"You're a little persistent, human." Anakras jumped onto the fungus-covered sinks. "Time to pay the bloodline a visit." Just like he did with the door, phased through the boarded up windows.

"Pay the bloodline a visit?" Jack repeated. He quickly ran over to Dib and knelt beside him as the dark and disturbing world around them reverted to what it once was: The Membrane kitchen. "Are you alright, kid?" Jack asked as he helped Dib up.

"I-I'm fine," Dib answered. "Anakras, is that the Irken that killed you?"

Jack helped Dib walk to the table so he could take a seat. "Yeah. He's the one," Jack answered. The ghost walked over to the sink and got a glass of water. "He's been causing the fires recently." He walked over to the table and handed Dib the glass of water.

"Thanks," Dib said as he took the glass of water. "He said something about paying the family bloodline a visit. Does he mean my family?"

"I don't know," Jack answered. "I'll have to investigate more on this matter. Until then, you should really try to go to sleep."

Dib looked at his now empty cup of water. "I don't know how I'll be able to get to sleep tonight…"


	4. A Hit Close To Home

By how I've run the story, Dib is actually a teen in this. Not a boy.

Disclaimer – I don't own Invader Zim. I do own Jack and Anakras, as well as Agent Atomic Mind.

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Spirits and Ghouls  
By Sanoon

Chapter 3: A Hit Close to Home

The sun had gone down at least an hour ago. As the kids had gone inside, the older teens and thugs made their way outside. The lights from a small residential area and the streetlights revealed to all that, although the sun had set, the life did not sleep. Dib stood in front of the small, single-story blue house, staring at the paper Jack had written for him.

_Dib,  
Head to my son's house. He's been looking into the fires. Tell him everything about Anakras. I'll try to find out where he hides._

_He lives at 984 Bruce Street. Right down from the Cornerstone Drug store. You've passed by it before._

_Your paranormal buddy,  
Jack_

"If you insist," Dib said to the paper, unsure of Jack's idea.

He stuffed the paper in his pocket and rang the doorbell. A few seconds passed as he heard someone shuffling around inside as old floorboards creaked and moaned. The door scraped open, and an eye peered outside. "Who is it?" the old voice asked.

"It's Agent Mothman," the young teen replied.

The door closed as the old man behind it fumbled with the lock. The door opened again, this time revealing a tall, old man with frizzy white hair, wearing a tan shirt with a dark plaid vest and tan khaki pants. "A-agent Mothman?" the old man repeated hesitantly. "What are you doing here at such a late hour?"

Dib cleared his throat and said to the man, "I'm looking for some info into the fires that have been occurring lately."

The old man raised an eyebrow. "Really? You're looking into those fires as well?" His eyes widened as he realized a mistake he was making. "Where are an old man's manners?" He opened the door fully and motioned for Dib to enter. The young teen nodded and entered. He could instantly smell the aroma of a multitude of different scents.

The living room was dark, only illuminated by a few faint candles. At assortment of scented candles seemed to be in the room, only four lit at a time. There was a lamp in the corner, but it wasn't on. There was a ceiling fan over the small coffee table in the middle of the room that was spinning on its lowest setting, sending a calming breeze over the room.

"Take a seat," agent Atomic Mind said, motioning towards one of the couches. "I keep my research in my room. Lemme go get it." Dib sat down on the lush blue couch as the old man left the room.

As the young teen sat down at the couch, he observed all of the artifacts in the house he had not noticed before. Many old, small statues from Atomic Mind's many trips around the world all rested on shelves and stands. Old jewelry, and old pottery, each on display in the safety cases.

The old man returned to the room with a black briefcase. He sat next to Dib and placed the briefcase on the coffee table. He entered the combination that the lock required and opened the top. It was stuffed with documents, pictures, and hastily scribbled notes, all organized into different folders. Dib picked up one of the folders and opened it up glancing over the pictures of a burnt house and official documents on the case.

"Those are pictures and police reports from the first fire," Agent Atomic said, glancing over to the file the teen was holding.

"I thought you were only looking into ghosts, Atomic Mind?" Dib asked as he flipped over a page in the file.

"Please, call me Fredrick," the old man said. "Our SEN names are informal for such an occasion. And I normally wouldn't look into cases like these, but I was receiving multiple letters from an unknown person telling me to look into the incidents." Dib glanced over to the old man. "I first thought it was just from another SEN member, so I just put it aside and set up a forum on the network to find out who it was. But when I was going through some very old photos, I found a picture my father took. He wrote a small note on the back that looked incredibly similar to the notes sent to me. When I compared them, they were the same handwriting."

"You mean, Jack?" Dib asked as he glanced at the man.

He sighed and nodded. "Yes, Jack. My old man."

"Yeah…" Dib glanced back to the photos. He never did tell Fredrick the full truth about the whole thing a few months back. Jack didn't want the teen to tell his son everything. But if Jack wanted Dib to tell Fredrick about Anakras, then wouldn't he have to tell him about what really happened with Jack too?

"Never did meet another man like my dad," Fredrick said as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. He stopped when he saw Dib glance at them. "Oh…sorry. I suppose you don't want me to light up when you're around?"

Dib was used to it. Jack did all the time. "It's fine," the teen replied.

"I remember it like it was yesterday," Fredrick said, leaning back into the couch, placing the pack back into his pocket, forgoing the smoke. He eyes stared at the ceiling, while his brain dug up old memories. Dib raised an eyebrow, curious as to what the old man could be talking about. "I was only 17 then. We lived next to these real mean people. One day, their son was at my house, talking to my dad and I about how his new job and how he was better than everyone else there. When he left, my father looked at me, pulled out a cigarette, and handed it to me saying, "Son, I want you to smoke this and never turn out like our neighbors." That was quite a day."

"Wow…so Jack got you addicted to cigarettes?" Dib asked, somewhat surprised.

"Oh, of course, back then they didn't know that these things were so deadly," Fredrick answered. He sighed. "But…it's the reason I'm in such a sickly state."

"Sickly state?" Dib repeated.

"I small form of cancer, slowly draining my old life away," the old man responded.

"I'm…sorry…"

"For what?" he asked, almost laughing softly. "Not like you could have done anything to help. You weren't even born then." He grunted as he stood up, and slowly walked over to one of his old artifacts, observing his past accomplishments. "So…" he turned back to Dib, "why are you investigating the fires? I didn't know spontaneous human combustion was one of your things?"

"It's not," Dib replied, as he put the file he was still holding back into the briefcase. A spot along the roof creaked, receiving only a tiny glance from the two in the room, before the teen continued, "but I have some information that could help you."

"Really?" Fredrick asked, walking back over to the couch. Again, the ceiling creaked, but this time, the two in the room didn't notice. "What could you have for me?"

Dib closed the briefcase. "I know how the fires are really starting. Who's really behind them."

Fredrick raised an eyebrow in curiosity, and couldn't stop himself from asking, "Really? Who is causing the fires?"

"Me," came a voice near one of the windowsills, accompanied by the short sound of drapes being ripped off the wall. The two quickly turned to view the new unwelcome guest.

"Anakras!" Dib shouted as he jumped up from the couch, already finding himself making a silent growl at the ghost, while Fredrick slowly stumbled back in shock at the alien in his house.

As for the ghost, he was sitting like a dog on one of the wooden tables, sitting next to one of the four lit candles with some black silk drapes in his left hand. With a grin, he set his right hand behind the candle on the table, and with a simple flick of his finger, set it plummeting to the old wooden floor.

The little flame quickly started to grow, and just as quickly, Anakras jumped to the next candle, knocking it off of the table as well, and catching his drape on fire, leaving a burning trail of smoke as he jumped to the third candle.

Dib quickly turned to Fredrick, and shouted, "We have to get out of here!" Of course, the old man was also thinking the same thing, as he turned to leave, before turning and ordering Dib to grab the briefcase, which the teen quickly did. However, in this delay, Anakras took the time to leap next to the door, and place the burning drape across the door, preventing them from leaving through their only exit.

With the walls burning, the door blocked, and deadly black smoke filling the room, the two began to panic; more so than they were minutes ago, at least. Anakras now sat on top of the couch cushion, his job done with all the candles on the floor, watching as the two in the room coughed and choked on the deadly fumes.

"Quickly, Dib!" Fredrick shouted as he grabbed the teen's arm. He ran to the burning door, let go of Dib, and charged the door, slamming into the burning frame.

"What are you doing!?" Dib shouted, then coughed.

Fredrick stepped back, his sleeves on fire, and slammed the door again, this time smashing through the door. Dib quickly rushed to help the old man who was now lying outside.

Anakras quickly scowled at their escape and shouted, "No you don't! Not this time!" He leapt off of the couch and, in another leap, tripped Dib as he made it outside. He then jumped on the old man's back, bruised and clothes catching on fire. Dib recovered quickly, and turned over on his back to see Anakras sticking his arms inside Fredrick, not puncturing the skin, just as the ghost did with the teen a day ago.

Dib quickly reached out to push the ghost off, but the old man glanced at the boy, and said in his best voice, despite his dying vitality, "Go Dib, take the briefcase and run!" Then Fredrick laid his head down for the final time. Dib stumbled up and ran, briefcase in hand. He ran as fast as he could. He ran through the night and the cold air. He just ran.

-----

Anakras pulled his arm out of the old man, and walked off of the body on all fours, watching Dib fade away into the darkness. He smirked as he watched Dib run for his life. How fun to see that. He glanced back to the old man, seeing that the fire was now completely enveloping him.

The sound of fire truck sirens quickly brought the ghost to his senses, as he quickly ran off as any stray animal would.

* * *

Not so much going on during the beginning of this chapter. Mostly filler crap. But now you all know what Anakras meant by his most questioned line: "Time to pay the bloodline a visit." A good many of you thought he was talking about Zim, bringing up the question, "Is Anakras related to Zim?"

…No…no he is not. Which is kind of interesting because that idea never even crossed my mind until you guys asked.

But now the side of good has lost a player. Agent Atomic Mind. How will things play out in the last chapter of this episode?

Oh, and good news for you guys…I guess…

On devaintart, there is the Jack and Anakras Fanclub. For all those interested and who have a DA account, go ask for entry, and enjoy.


	5. The Beginning of the Long Road Ahead

Enjoy the final chapter of Spirits and Ghouls.

Disclaimer – I don't own Invader Zim, but I do own Jack and Anakras, who are merely puppets of my will, entertaining you all while I brainwash you into joining my massive organization.

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Spirits and Ghouls  
By Sanoon

Chapter 4: The Beginning of the Long Road Ahead

The air was still on that late August day. The sun sat high in the sky. Judging by its position, one could easily guess it was about two in the afternoon.

The grass and occasional tree, with its dying leaves, covered the plain just outside of the city. A bulge or two formed a few hills near the center, and offered a scenic view to anyone who climbed it. But human-carved stone and marble, engraved with writing that was meant to last for centuries to come, stood on this ground in great amounts of rows and aisles. It's a final resting place for those that have endured the trail of life. Many call it…a graveyard…a cemetery.

On this day, there were a great many people gathered to say their goodbyes to someone they all knew. At least 100 people, all wearing black suits, were conversing with one another about the recent events, as well as the controversy over the mysterious arsonist. Some had left immediately following the closing of the ceremony, but many had stayed.

A young teen sat on the ground, resting his back on the old oak tree behind him. It wasn't often he wore something besides his blue shirt with the creepy smile, his black pants, black combat boots, and his black trench coat. No, today he wore a black suit like everyone else. But those who see this teen everyday would notice now how professional he looked, although the scythe hair took away from that impression.

A second person was sitting along the same tree as the teen. This person was much older than the teen, and would have stood out the most…were he able to be seen by the masses. He wore his trench coat that, when he was standing up, went down to his knees. The coat hid his white shirt and tan vest, along with a portion of his tan pants. The man was currently holding his hat in his hands, using his index fingers to examine the fabric.

Across from the two stood four graves grouped together. One of the four was recently filled; it's occupant laid to rest. The teen stared solemnly at the grave, and let his lips spell out the name engraved on it for the 12th time today. _Fredrick S. Doorman._ To the left was the smallest of the four. _Larry K. Doorman._ Besides that, _Anna D. Doorman._ And the final grave, _Jack G. Doorman._

"Hey, Jack," the teen said quietly. The man next to him didn't stir. "Who's Larry?"

The man released a sad sigh, and with the saddened voice of an adult who has gone through much pain and stress, answered, "He's my first son." Dib glanced over. "He died during childbirth."

Dib returned his stare to the gravestone. "Sorry."

The two sat in uncomfortable silence for many minutes before one spoke again.

"I think it's time I get a little bit of distance from here, ok Kid?"

Dib glanced over to Jack; seeing that he had put his hat back on and started breathing irregularly. "Sure," the teen slowly responded. Dib stood up, and the man did as well, although, his rise was much slower. He constantly had an arm on the tree for support. "Are you ok?" Dib asked as he walked next to Jack.

"I'll be fine," he answered tiredly. He stumbled forward, away from the tree. "I just need to get away from my grave."

"You're grave…" Dib glanced back to the grave, and then back to Jack, who was now using a gravestone to hold himself up. "What's wrong, Jack?"

"It's a little research I did once…" He continued onward, and Dib followed alongside. "I can't stay close to my grave for very long. The closer I get, the more energy is drained from me. It's only my body, not others. So it must be something to do with the ghost and it's body."

Dib made another backwards glance, this time with wide eyes as he thought about the concept. The two continued on, gaining more and more distance from the family tombstones.

Soon, Jack stopped him, and the two sat down. They were still in the cemetery, bunched between two different graves.

Dib glanced around the cemetery. Many of the people were now leaving. "Fred had a lot of friends," he stated.

"Most of them part of the SEN," Jack responded.

"What do we have here?" came a familiar voice from somewhere nearby. Jack quickly looked around, a rage filling inside him yet again. The target was spotted. He sat crouched on one of the gravestones, staring wickedly at the two with a cruel grin.

"Anakras!" Jack shouted. "You evil bastard!" The man charged the alien, but the smaller one was much more nimble, and back flipped off of the grave, landing on another one. Jack stared in anger, while Dib stared in shock and anger. "You killed my son!"

"Yes, I did," the green ghost replied. "I have ended the last of the bloodline descended from you."

Jack clenched his fists, and charged the alien again. Anakras again jumped out of the way, this time landing on the branch of one of the trees. The Irken chuckled and shook his head. "We'll have plenty of time for this, human. So make sure you're always prepared." With that, he jumped out of the tree and disappeared among the gravestones.

Jack didn't unclench his fists. He was still weak, but he didn't care. He was still beyond angry. "Damn you…" he seethed.

Judging from how the interactions between the two seem to be, this was going to be a long fight…

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The end of Spirits and Ghouls. The next part will bring about answers from the other side of the playing field.


End file.
